


my best friend's wedding

by nonuwrites



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:49:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23445013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonuwrites/pseuds/nonuwrites
Summary: It is the morning of your wedding day, and Wonwoo struggles to keep his feelings in check. Seokmin, his best friend, being the groom isn't helping either.
Relationships: Wonwoo x reader - Relationship
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	my best friend's wedding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jane/gifts).



> to jane, to the one who made me love wonkyeom more. i think i pulled the trigger? i hope you don't retaliate.

_ “If you love someone, you say it, you say it right then, out loud. Otherwise, the moment just… passes you by.”  _

  * _-My Best Friend’s Wedding 1997_



  
  
  
  
  
  


You don’t always end up with your soulmate. Fate is riddled with doomed endings and tragedies as much as it is filled with promises of love and bliss. It is as elusive as moonbeams cast from your window and as fleeting as snowflakes melting at your touch. Wonwoo always thought he was one of the lucky ones, capturing a dream and making it his own. That he had held on to its blurry edges and gave it the clarity to become reality. But now, he was sure that he drew the short stick. That the fates needed something to fiddle with and he was theirs for the day.

This has to be some sick joke. It had to be, because you, undoubtedly the love of his life, was marrying his best friend. And there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

Fixing the bow tie that was positively choking his neck, Wonwoo let out a disgruntled huff as he pulled away from the deathly silk. His face was flushed hot in frustration from trying to master the forsaken ribbon. His jet black hair that was tastefully slicked back just this morning now brushing against his furrowed brows. 

Slender fingers fumbled at his pearl white collar, getting increasingly restless. He finally reaches his climax and lets out a groan.  _ To hell with this bow tie, _ he cried internally, falling backwards at his bed. A dull thud punctuates his fall as the mattress dips underneath his weight.

Toffee eyes greet the ceiling, a dazed look glistening them. Wonwoo could hear the soft dulcet tones of the band playing below, the sweet music permeating the air. The ballads that serenaded the venue were inarguably you and Seokmin translated into music. The song being one of your old time favorites and coincidentally one of Seokmin’s too. A soft sigh escapes Wonwoo, _ I definitely drew the short stick.  _

Rising from his position, Wonwoo sits up and looks around. Everything had a touch of you and his best friend to it. The place the both of you rented was gorgeous, a little villa at the outskirts of the city.

It was a hidden sanctuary and was nestled deep within a maze of provincial back roads. The Victorian inspired villa was a small one, but its every square inch was gilded and ornamented in a way that reminisced of a time where evening galas were the norm, and candle lit dinners were the mundane. But perhaps what truly made this venue worthwhile was the garden below.

Past the billowing curtains that whispered against the polished wooden floors, sprawled a garden that boasted to be a heaven of roses and untamed wisteria. Wonwoo knew the minute he saw the place, that it was the wild beauty of the blossoms that captured Seokmin’s heart and inevitably yours. 

Sweat bulleted down Wonwoo’s back, making his already cotton white polo translucent. It clung to the valley of his spine and pooled in patches in the blades of his shoulders. He wasn’t sure if the love intoxicated atmosphere was getting to him, or the painful clarity that his best friends were getting married was slowly killing him. Either way, his usual cool temperament was hanging precariously on a knife’s edge and he was bleeding himself dry trying to hold unto it.

A brush of knuckles against wood pierced through the lull of the music and before he knew it, Seokmin had entered the room. He was a vision in his three piece suit, the rich shade of navy complimenting his best friend's honey skin as the trousers that he wore did his already long legs, a world of wonders. The cream vest that hugged his slender waist had a sheen that glistened as he moved towards Wonwoo, his black dress socks sliding across the floor. 

Seokmin was undoubtedly handsome but even more so now. While Wonwoo was all sharp edges and porcelain skin, Seokmin had the fluidity of laughter lines, a brush of cherry lips, and those undeniable chocolate eyes that had a perpetual glow ringed around them. His beauty was careless and in the unpolished, a stark opposition to the delicate one of Wonwoo’s.

“How are you doing?” he asked, his honeyed voice offering a remedy to Wonwoo’s nerves.

He takes the vacant spot beside him, and sinks into the mattress.  _ Like hell _ , Wonwoo thought, leveling with his gaze. How was he supposed to say that he felt absolutely devastated by the fact he was marrying the only woman he ever loved?

Wonwoo’s heart coils within him, squeezing tighter into himself that he was sure it was about to burst and fall into fragments around the immaculate bed. Years of unrequited love, stolen glances, and hushed whispers were finally gaining up on him, and Wonwoo brushed it all off with a tight smile.

“The usual,” he murmured, the deep timbre of his voice melting with the faint notes of the music.

Seokmin raises a quizzical brow, arching perfectly above his eye.

“Wonwoo you’re wet as Hoshi after clubbing.” Lowering his gaze at Wonwoo’s soaked pits, Seokmin lets out a laugh and makes a beeline for the dresser.

“You know she’s going to be furious if she sees you like that,” he calls out over his shoulder, and Wonwoo lets out a scoff.

“She’s always furious at me,” he retorts, prying himself from the bed.

Seokmin pulls out a dress shirt and tosses it at Wonwoo, a teasing tongue poking out of his cherry lips.

With a sigh, Wonwoo begins to unbutton his polo. The cold breeze nipping at his body and making him shiver involuntarily.

“Why are you here anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be bawling your eyes out somewhere in your room because you’re marrying the love of your life today?” It was meant to be a joke, but Wonwoo couldn’t help but to feel dismayed at the shade of anger that managed to peek through. He hoped Seokmin didn’t notice, and if he did, he was absolutely fantastic at hiding it.

“I already cried thrice,” he admitted, his eyes squinting and turning into little crescent moons. “Noona had given up on me and Cheol made me down a shot of whisky before leaving as well.” A bubble of laughter escapes him, and Wonwoo can’t quite place it if it was the alcohol or Seokmin’s own amusement at himself.

“I haven’t seen you all morning,” he whispered, turning back to look at Wonwoo.

Slender hands drift away from his polo skimming Wonwoo’s thighs, a gulp strains his throat. He was hoping the day’s festivities would render Seokmin dumbfounded. With the rush of caterers, florists, and guests, bubbling from the entrance like fountain water, he was placing a pretty coin that Seokmin wouldn’t have noticed his elusive presence. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  


Seungcheol had snuck into his room last night, seeking solace from the pandemonium of bachelors drunk to oblivion. Wonwoo had slipped away from the party, and the older one noticed it the moment the settee was devoid of the quiet man.

“Haul your ass off from the bed grandpa. You’re the best man, shouldn’t-”

The words trailed off from Seungcheol’s lips and drifted away into the night. His vision zeroing in on the heaving shoulders of his friend , his tall figure hunched back and curling into himself. Soft sobs wafted in the midnight breeze, a sad harmony to the faint revelry happening below. Seungcheol felt a sickening jab to his heart.

“Won?” he whispered, coming towards him.

Placing a hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder, he feels the tremors of his best friend beneath his touch. Sending another fracture to his heart.

The younger one takes in a shaky breath, feeling shards of glass enveloping his lungs. He had tried so hard to keep it together, during the preparations, the rehearsals, and the first half of the bachelor party. But as he gazed upon Seokmin’s face earlier, cheeks a render of blossoms from the rush of alcohol and warm cocoa eyes glowing with euphoria- he suddenly felt like he was losing air.

“Won look at me. You have to look at me,” Seungcheol was firm but gentle, mirroring the grip he had on his friend’s shoulder.

Wonwoo hesitantly faced him, his red rimmed eyes immediately looking down at his lap. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this, not Seungcheol, not Seokmin, and most definitely not you.

“I thought I was already fine, “ he blubbered through uneven breaths. “But it just gets worse Cheol. Seeing him so happy like that.”

Wonwoo shudders at the selfishness that colors his words and lets out a sob once again. He adored Seokmin so much, so why was it so hard to be happy for him?

Seungcheol’s lips pressed into a thin line. He knew of Wonwoo’s love for you, saw it through his shy glances, relentless teasing, and forehead kisses. He knew what lay simmering within his friend, and died every time he saw the longing that glimmered in his eyes. Hope was a brutal thing, and it killed Wonwoo at the end.

Pulling Wonwoo into a tight embrace, he lets the younger fall limp in his arms. “I know Wonwoo, but you have to let her go. You love the both of them too much to break it up.” The truth was another morbid twist of the knife in Wonwoo’s heart.

“Why did it have to be him?” he asked, finally leveling with Seungcheol’s gaze.

“I don’t know Wonwoo,” he admits, letting out a sigh. “But you can’t wonder the rest of your life why it wasn’t you.”

Silence befalls the two at Seungcheol word’s, the clarity of it sobering Wonwoo up. Game over, he knew he had to stop entertaining possibilities of you and him. He knew it was Seokmin’s touch that you would melt into, his voice you would hear in the hush of the morning, and his arms you would run to whenever the world got a little bit too much. Wonwoo was just an afterthought now, and he had to accept that.

“I love her,” he whispers, like a hidden prayer.

“Then you have to let her go.”

  
  
  


Seungcheol had offered to divert Seokmin’s attention from Wonwoo’s absence after his scene last night. Wonwoo needed time to breathe before the ceremony and not show up a mess of nerves on his best friend’s wedding day. He was a good understudy, helping Seokmin dress up, consoling and soothing his nerves, and rounding the boys together to cheer the young groom on. Seungcheol was stellar and meant so much to Seokmin, but he wasn’t Wonwoo. 

“I didn’t see you with the entourage earlier this morning. You know how clingy I am to you.” Giving Wonwoo a teasing wink, he finishes buttoning up his dress shirt with the tenderness that was reminiscent of yours;  _ they really are perfect for each other _ , Wonwoo thinks as he looks down at Seokmin fussing over him.

“You know how bad my hangovers get,” he lies, smirking a little to hide his guilt.

“Won you know I’ve seen you at your worst. Nothing could faze me now,” Seokmin’s amber eyes glowed as he caught Wonwoo’s gaze. The concern that swam in those honey pools all too much for him.

“I like your song choice by the way,” Wonwoo drifts away from his friend, segueing to another topic before he falls prey to his tears again. “Playing music before the ceremony helps fight the boredom of formalities.” His comment is flat along with his world, which is an infinite joke. Seokmin doesn’t quite catch this and nods approvingly.

Suddenly the steady strum of guitar chords and clean pitches of the keyboard bask the two in nostalgia. It drives the both of them back to their years in uni, the elegant room now melting into their cramped dorm.

“When you love someone,” Wonwoo murmurs, the song setting a smile on his lips.

“Day6 always hits home doesn’t it?” Seokmin grins, eyes shining like morning dew. Wonwoo glances at his friend, and his chest tightens a little; not of regret or bitterness but of the care he had for this dongsaeng of his.  _ Yes, if there is anyone who was meant for her- it was him. _

“This made her fall for you, you know?” Wonwoo mused, his words staining Seokmin’s cheeks red. 

“I was a mess that night,” he groaned, eyes crinkling at the memory.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


.  _ flashback  _

It was a Saturday night, Wonwoo and you were unwinding in a cafe with the rest of your peers after finals week had ended. It was a poetry slam that Hansol and Seungkwan had organized. The venue was small yet beautiful, the decor of the place a little shabby but charming. Bean bags littered the wooden floors along with warm-toned rugs that were spread out. A few couches were placed against walls filled with movie posters and some pop art of local artists. The scene was intimate, a handful of university students coming together after days of being buried in their work. Soft rock pulsed out of the speakers and wafted in the air, mingling with some alcohol induced laughter and the comforting hubbub of conversation.

Wonwoo feels your knees brush against his as you shifted in your bean bag, leaning closer towards him. The undeniable scent of lavender and your detergent fills his senses, making his head spin in the best possible way.

“That might have just been the best poem I heard all night,” he hears you whisper, your breath hot against his neck. A smile eats his lips as he faces you.

“I don’t even know if this is considered poetry,” he muses, watching as the soft rings of light in your eyes twinkle. The crowd goes wild as Hoshi finishes his impassioned slam poem about him being a tiger reincarnate, crisp sounds of snaps punctuating cries of compliments. Wonwoo lets out a laugh as he caves in and also snaps his fingers, his grin growing wider at the sight of his beet red friend and the shit eating a grin on his face.

“Thank you, I truly believe that I was a-”

“That’d be all for right now, we’ll have a ten minute intermission until open mic.” Seungkwan cuts him off, arms flailing wildly in an attempt to shoo the older man away. Wonwoo hears you laugh as Hoshi leaves the stage disgruntled, and he can’t help but to shake his head.

“Hey, I’m going to refill our drinks.” He tells you rising from his place, cups in hand. You circle his wrist with your fingers, bringing him down gently.

“Just give me some tea, I need to sober up a little.” You say, making Wonwoo nod in return.

It was a quick feat getting the drinks, and by no time Wonwoo was weaving his way through the labyrinth of stray students and bean bags to get back to you. He was almost near until he felt someone push against him, with enough force that it tips his balance and spills your tea over. The hot liquid scalds his fingers, and he curses softly underneath his breath.

“I’m so so sorry hyung,” he hears the person cry and Wonwoo immediately eases at the sound of the familiar honey voice.

“Don’t worry about it,” he placates a distressed Seokmin. It was practically impossible to get mad at him, and who would want to anyway?

The younger man shakes his head as he looks around for some tissue, his fingers splayed as if it would materialize the said item. Wonwoo places the drinks by a nearby table and grabs Seokmin’s trembling hands. He knows it wasn’t just the spilled drinks he was worrying about.

Part of the reason Wonwoo came to the poetry slam tonight was to see him perform. It took two weeks to finally convince the shy song bird to do a little something for the gig tonight. The deal breaker being you- Seokmin’s budding crush. Wonwoo’s heart had melted when he had confessed to him the night of Soonyoung’s birthday.  _ Everything cursed always happens on the eve of that pure Gemini’s day. _

Seokmin who was a goner by the third bottle of soju, was a mess of jell-o limbs as he leaned against Wonwoo on the way to their dorm. He had been rambling about how he and Seungkwan had gotten in trouble again in their Com class, hands like birds fluttering restlessly as he rambled on. Wonwoo bites his cheek, eyes filled with mirth at the endearing man. Suddenly Seokmin stops his little spiel and looks at Wonwoo with seriousness laying thick on his face. 

He then recalls the memory of seeing you for the first time; it was when you had dropped by their dorm to fetch Wonwoo for your usual Saturday night out. Slicked with sweat from his futsal session with Chan, Seokmin had opened the door to the stunning surprise that was you. He was positive that the crinkles that bound your eyes was because of his repulsive odor and not at the pathetic attempt of a joke he just made. You shot back some witty retort that fell deaf on Seokmin’s ears because, how could someone be so beautiful just by standing there in a simple white shirt and washed out jeans?

Then Wonwoo came out, hair damp from the shower and glasses all fogged up. He introduces Seokmin to you, formally this time, and you take his hand like he’s opening the door to meet you all over again. Shrugging on a coat Wonwoo tousles Seokmin’s hair and steals you away. His promises of coming back by 2 ringing in the hall. Seokmin just stands there, like a deer caught in the headlights, his palm outstretched as if your touch just burned him. But maybe it did, because from that moment on, you had singed a mark on his heart. And Seokmin didn’t mind in the slightest.

“I like her so much Won,” he whispered, cheeks flushed from the winter night. The world might as well stopped revolving right there and then. Wonwoo had stilled at the confession, feeling Seokmin’s breath against his cheek.

“But,” the drunken man added. “You two are so close, and she’s a year older and you’re way cooler than me hyung. I’ve got no chance, nope, na-da.” His chocolate eyes glisten in the moonlight, head caught in a daze as he looks up at Wonwoo as if he was the moon himself. And for Seokmin, moon and Wonwoo were only a matter of semantics because his hyung was every bit of that heavenly body.

“You’re better for her,” he concluded, patting Wonwoo’s chest meekly. Wonwoo felt his heart wrench as he watched Seokmin bow his head against him. He had no idea how incredible he was and he certainly can’t blame the young man for liking you. You, you were once in a million, a shot of whisky amidst everyone’s cup of tea. Who wouldn’t like you?

“Stop degrading yourself Seokmin,” he sighed and continues to ease the both of them to their dorms. Trying to act like the confession didn’t at all rock his world to its very core. Seokmin shook his head furiously and dug his heels to the ground. Wonwoo darted a tongue to swipe his lips. A drunk Seokmin was a stubborn one.

Drawing in a breath he sweeps his friend off his feet and carries him over his shoulder. Seokmin letting out a breath at the abrupt gesture. Wonwoo swore he heard something come up. Brows furrowed, he sets towards the dorms with a fiery determination to tuck the young man in his bed.

During the night when Seokmin is finally snoring blissfully under the covers, Wonwoo mulls over his best friend’s confession. Playing the words over and over like a broken cassette that no one bothers to fix.  _ You’re better for her,  _ Wonwoo winces at the statement. Seokmin was ten times the man he was, and here he was placing him on a pedestal. He lets out a sigh and grabs fistfuls of his blanket, turning around to face Seokmin.

His friend always seemed to emanate youth but much more now in his sleep. Something about the wrinkles on his face smoothing out in the state of unconsciousness, makes him seem ageless in almost a hauntingly ethereal way. Maybe it was the soju, or the fact that he just cared too much for him, that despite himself Wonwoo vows to help Seokmin snag a date with you. Turning his back against his friend, Wonwoo closes his eyes in an attempt to sleep. His mind running on the hope that this was just some fleeting crush.

“She’s here,” Seokmin whispers, his eyes lingering on you.

“She’s here and you’re going to do great tonight.” Wonwoo says, giving his shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

“I think I’m going to faint,” Seokmin deadpans, eyes turning to saucers as he faces him. A chuckle bubbles out of Wonwoo’s chest as his eyes glitter at the dumbfounded man.

“Everyone please settle down, open mic will start in two minutes.” Hansol announces, his cool tone hushing everyone.

“Go get ‘em,” Wonwoo murmurs, ruffling Seokmin’s fringe as he retrieves the drinks and heads back to you.

Seokmin comes up first, and Wonwoo watches as he meekly introduces himself to the audience. He settles down on the stool and places the guitar comfortably between his lap and embrace. Wonwoo sneaks a glance at you and can’t help but smile at the curiosity shining in your eyes for his friend. Everyone always had that look when they watched Seokmin; that half in love, half in awe. 

“Here it goes,” Seokmin whispers shakily, taking in a deep breath before he goes for the plunge. With the shut of his eyes and the strum of guitar strings, Seokmin’s dulcet tones fill the room. Basking everyone in his honey voice and blanketing them with the comfort that only his voice could give.

Wonwoo’s lips part naturally at the sound of his friend, because who could believe this was the same guy who was an absolute train wreck earlier. Seokmin had eased into the song by now, a sly little smile etched into his face. He looked like an absolute dream underneath the warm glow of the overhead lights, his amber eyes glistening underneath his lashes. 

“It’s Day6,” Wonwoo hears you whisper in awe. He peers at you and can’t help but to feel his heart thunder at the sight. Your lips were parted like a kitten, eyes shimmering with awe at the angel singing in front. 

“When you love someone,” Wonwoo murmurs, his gaze never leaving your face. He was falling in love with you, and you were falling in love with his best friend.

  
  
  
  
  


. _ present  _

“You were perfect,” Wonwoo whispered. Seokmin thumbs the back of his neck bashfully. 

The younger looked up at him, a chuckle shaking his shoulders. “I think I was just enough Won,” he admitted.

Wonwoo watches as his fists curl and unfurl, feeling the trepidation of anxiety rolling off of Seokmin. He knew that even until now, Seokmin didn’t see himself worthy to have someone like you in his life. The younger one always degraded himself; he was the sun personified that believed it was his purpose to light up the moons that moved around him. Not once did he ask for anything in return, and had the audacity to think the light he gave wasn’t enough. Wonwoo always toyed with the thought. Flipping it over in the predawn hours when his dongsaeng would shuffle sleepily in his sheets.  _ Seokmin doubted if he was ever good enough, but did anyone even come near being perfect for Seokmin? _

“Just enough is perfect Seok,” he replied, leveling his gaze. The sincerity ringing clear and true in his words. Seokmin grins, and it's a strum to Wonwoo’s heart strings.

“I actually came here to ask if you could do my tie.” Seokmin pulls out the piece of silk from his pocket, Wonwoo inwardly wincing at the sight of wrinkles staining it. It was definitely a lie, what he said. Seungcheol was perfectly capable of doing the knot and polishing Seokmin down. But when he had retrieved the pearlescent tie, the younger one had shook his head furiously.

“He does it,” he tells him. The seriousness lacing his voice makes Seungcheol smile. There were only a few instances when solemnity veiled Seokmin’s face, and it always concerned either Wonwoo or you.

“Alright,” Seungcheol murmured. A flash of dimples and a smile as he hands the tie over to him.

_ He’s dad could have done it, or his sister… _ but as Wonwoo pulls away the tie from Seokmin’s grasp, his head buzzes with the high of victory and validation.  _ I’m a fool for this guy as much as I am for her.  _ He does the knot with ease, fingers working methodically around Seokmin.

“You know this really wouldn’t have happened without you,” Seokmin clears his throat. He was at the edge of rambling; flickering eyes, a strained smile, wiggling fingers, yes, Seokmin was at the precipice of his calm . Wonwoo throws him off by staying silent.

“I mean from the first time I saw her when she dropped you off at our dorm, to that poetry night and everything in between. I was a mess and you dealt with it and told me I was something worthwhile.” Wonwoo isn’t sure if he’s breathing, his fingers frozen in place. “You were there when I had more alcohol than blood in my system, you were there when I failed my midterms and assured me that my mother wasn’t going to disown me.” A laugh, Wonwoo’s fingers are now trembling.

“You took me out from the corner when I was scared as hell to come up and talk to girls at parties. You were there when Hao, and I finally got our degree- yours and Seungcheol hyung’s smile outshining my mother’s. You were there when I didn’t know what to wear on my first date and calmed me down because, how was it even real that I had snagged a date with  _ her? _ You were there when I felt invisible at times, and you were there even when you weren’t.”

Seokmin lets out a laugh , his eyes not quite mimicking his lips. “I’m sorry if I’m being clingy but, I think you could imagine the fear that took me when in the morning of my wedding day, I looked around and you weren’t there.” 

A moment of silence, the world feeling like it had been dipped underwater. Wonwoo breaks through by pulling Seokmin into his embrace, and it feels like both had swallowed lungfuls of air from being under for so long. “I’m always going to be here you big baby.”

Seokmin’s eyes are copper coins glistening at the bottom of a wishing well, Wonwoo is pulled in. “Now go before your family thinks you’ve passed out in the garden.” He gives Seokmin a playful shove but the younger pulls him in again. 

“Thank you hyung,” he whispers, casting him one last smile that Wonwoo thinks is akin to a sunrise. Seokmin leaves the room albeit hesitantly but Wonwoo urges him to go on, promising he'll follow suit.

He looks around for his shoes when a knock falls heavy on his door. “What is it Seok? I’ll just slip on my shoes and I’ll be out.” Scavenging around to look for the leather pair of oxfords, Wonwoo pays no attention to the door creaking open. Letting you in.

“How typical of Jeon Wonwoo, to lose his shoes at the last minute.” That undeniable ring of your voice is all that it takes to catch Wonwoo off guard. 

He turns around to look at you and lightning hits him. “Shit,” he whispers, the sight of you punching the breath out of him.

Wonwoo always knew you were beautiful but this was something else. You were poetry in flesh in that white dress, a dream honed to reality with every step you took towards him. Whatever sunsets were made out of, you were fashioned from it. Wonwoo merely being one of your many admirers.

“You don’t even have your bow tie yet.” You chide, a frown settling on your lips.  _ Lips that only Seokmin could kiss. _

“I can’t do it,” Wonwoo blurts, absolutely dumbfounded by you.

Brandishing the tie you found laying discarded on his bed, you start towards him and Wonwoo gulps. He didn’t want you to come near him, didn’t want to feel your warmth and smell your perfume. But his feet are glued to the floor and the wind knocked off his lungs.

You’re finally in front doing the bow tie and there’s a million thoughts rushing to Wonwoo’s head right now. The right words to say at this moment would probably be,  _ You look beautiful toda _ y, or,  _ How are you feeling?  _ But as you finish up and cast Wonwoo a smile, he cuts you off before you even ask him if he’s ready.

“Dance with me,” he says, his voice thick with emotion you can’t understand. The notes of a cello and violin play in the background and Wonwoo’s hand is already outstretched.

“You’re weird today,” you tell him but take his offer nonetheless.

Wonwoo takes your hands and guides it towards his neck, his own falling to the curve of your waist like puzzle pieces finally taking shape. He sways the both of you, gently and carefully. Thinking the slightest force would break the delicacy of the moment. Your feet pad along the floor, an echo to the movement of his black dress socks. 

“Nonu we’re still going to dance in the reception you know?” You tease, peering up at him. He was already looking at you.

“I know,” he starts.  _ But it won’t be the same,  _ “but indulge me just now.”

The slow dance is riddled with love, and it's safe to say that it emanated from both sides but with variations of meaning behind it. The music fills both of your senses and you can’t help but to melt into Wonwoo’s touch. Perhaps for the last time.

“You look absolutely beautiful.” His words are slow like molasses and covers you. This is not the first time he said this to you, but it is the first time you have heard the compliment with that certain “ring” to it.

“I try my best,” you reply, casting a wink that mirrored Seokmin’s. A smile ripples on Wonwoo’s lips.

He leans in towards you, the smell of jasmine and champagne enveloping him. Cotton-soft lips touch your forehead, sending warmth all the way down to your toes.

“You are the tenderest, and loveliest woman in my life.” His voice is low and vulnerable against your ear, and you wonder what spurred him to be so emotional this morning. Maybe one too many drinks? The atmosphere? The fact he was still single? You make a mental note to set him up with one of your colleagues but Wonwoo cuts your thoughts. 

“I love you,” he says, embracing you tighter before the music lulls to a close. He pulls away but not too far, his hands still lingering on your waist. Something within you stirs, and you bring him nearer to you again. Like tides to the moon, the both of you were bound by circumstance.

“I love you too Nonu,” you whisper back, but Wonwoo knows that your words don’t measure up to his. He feels an ache that resembles that of an old bruised. Healing but not quite finished, just like him.

“Now,” he says, a smile breaking through him- “let’s get you married.” 

  
  


The ceremony is an emotional one, like most weddings are. From the way you drifted down the aisle to Seokmin’s side, to the way his best friend teared at the vision of you- Wonwoo was dying, but in the sweetest way possible.

“Are you alright?” He hears Seungcheol whisper, and Wonwoo takes a moment to answer.

He looks at Seokmin and notices the way he cradles your hands in his touch. His eyes glistening at the sight of you, a smile painted on his lips. No doubt he felt every bit of happiness for his best friend, but as Wonwoo looks at you something else blooms in his chest.

You were absolutely at peace, shoulders set back, breathing even. There were only a few moments when it seemed you had mastered and obtained the equilibrium of the whole universe. Your wedding and that night in the convenience store.

  
  
  
  
  


. _ flashback  _

  
  
  
  


Waltzing into the store, you and Wonwoo were on a mission to buy some ice cream because-

_ “We need to sober up,” he insisted. _

__

_ “You’re just making up an excuse to eat ice cream.” _

__

_ “Don’t pretend like you don’t want to.” _

__

_ “Fine, but you’re paying.” _

Maybe he  _ was  _ just finding an excuse to eat ice cream, but as the both of you gravitate towards the freezer and pull out two sticks of Melona out, Wonwoo knew he was just taking any chance the universe threw at him to stretch out this night a little longer with you.

“Yep, this hits the sweet spot.” You sighed, sucking on the ice cream. 

“It hits the sweet spot because I paid for it,” Wonwoo grumbles, taking a bite of his own. You have never really grasped the possibility of actually  _ eating  _ ice cream because your sensitive teeth can’t relate.

Wonwoo feels your eyes on him and smirks at your wonderment. “Darling, you and that ice cream are going to melt if you keep staring at me.” A teasing swipe of his tongue sends your arms flying down on his shoulder.

“Ass,” you mutter, going back to sucking your Melona. 

Comfortable silence blankets the two of you, interrupted by the occasional customer that would eventually leave in a matter of moments. But you and Wonwoo were a constant, rooted to these flimsy convenience store stools like you had been here all along. 

If Wonwoo were to admit it, all he ever needed was this. To have you by his side and the silence that was so familiar between lovers in car rides, and late nights. He casts one look at you and finds a trail of ice cream staining the corner of your lips. Absentmindedly he brushes it away, his fingers lingering a second too long on your cheeks and his eyes staring a touch too long at your lips.

“Darling, you and that ice cream are going to melt if you keep staring at me,” he hears you echo his words, sending him down to reality. He pinches your cheeks with a force that makes you cry out.

“You really are an ass tonight,” you tell him, rubbing your glowing cheek. He gives you a flippant grin and you could already make out the words shining in his eyes-  _ But I’m your ass. _

__

__ “Hey Nonu,” you start, voice taking a serious tone. “Have you ever been in love with someone?”

The question throws Wonwoo off guard, and by off guard he means like you just pulled his heart right off his chest and listened to the secrets he’s been harboring there for years.  _ Yes, with you.  _

“Why?” he stutters, ice cream long forgotten and melted.

“I think I’m falling in love,” you tell him. There was always a touch of fear that comes along with falling in love with someone. The thought of baring your most vulnerable self to another sends lightning down people’s spines and leaves their hearts thundering as an afterthought. But you, you looked like a baby in sleep’s embrace, absolutely peaceful and blissful. Like falling in love was coming home and knowing you were finally safe. Wonwoo prays that he was home, that he was love, and you were falling towards him because damn he’s had his arms open wide for you for years.

“I mean of course love is a universal thing. I’m in love with my family, my friends, hell- I’m a little in love with you Nonu.” Wonwoo was certain that the blood pumping through him was loud enough to echo in the empty streets of Gangnam.

_ But I love you a lot,  _ he screams internally. He was ready to cut you off, to unleash the brewing storm that’s been eating him up for years-but then you say  _ his  _ name. You say his name, and you’re falling in love all over again. And Wonwoo doesn’t pull you back when you fall.

“But what I feel for Seokmin. That’s what the poets must feel right? I’ve always complained about the millions of imagery those pompous airheads wrote but, if you’re feeling like this.” You look at him, and the emotion that glitters in your eyes is one that he is all too familiar with. “Then I guess I can’t blame them.”

“I’m in love with him Nonu,” you whisper, a blush dusting your cheeks. “Shit you’re right, it's amazing the clarity that ice cream brings.”

The laughter that rings from your mouth numbs Wonwoo. Here you were, eyes shut in absolute nirvana. Peace was washing over you like a wave, because you didn’t fight the universe, not the way Wonwoo did. No, you had caved in because there was nothing else to do, but love Lee Seokmin. And Jeon Wonwoo saw that with absolute clarity.

  
  
  
  
  
  


.  _ present  _

Acceptance, that’s what unfurls inside of him as he looks on at the both of you. He knew there was nowhere else you belong but in Seokmin’s arms; it was the law set in stone. One that he tried so hard to rewrite. But maybe he was bound to another person, the way you were bound to be Seokmin’s.

A smile grazes his lips and with the certainty that took years to arrive, Wonwoo catches Seungcheol’s ebony eyes and says, “I’m alright.”

__

__

__

  
  
  
  


__ The reception is riddled with laughter, love, and alcohol. Watching from his table as Soonyoung sweeps across the dance floor, Wonwoo lets out a laugh as a waiter misses him by a hair line. He was high on champagne and the triumph of his best friend’s wedding, gaining purchase of Seungkwan’s arm and tearing him away from Vernon. He persuades Seokmin to join them, and the trio do their iconic spiel of being BooSeokSoon.

Once the music slows down to a more intimate adagio, Seokmin flutters to you and Wonwoo watches as the both of you drift like clouds along the floor. Words abandoned, head on his chest, Seokmin sways you to the music in a movement that is reminiscent of Wonwoo’s earlier; but now, you are right where you belong. Wonwoo catches a glimpse of your eyes fluttering open, catching his gaze.

_ You’re next,  _ you mouth before melting into Seokmin’s embrace once more. Wonwoo lifts up his glass of champagne in understanding. He pries his gaze away from the both of you because the moment feels a little too intimate. One stray look feels too much of an intrusion and Wonwoo knows he’s already caused too much of it.

Instead his eyes sweep across the garden, settling on his friends. Half of them seemed to be intoxicated by alcohol and the other half by the whole love affair. Jun, devastatingly handsome in his three piece suit, has discarded his blazer to wrap it around the shoulders of his beloved. Jeonghan eases a shy Seungcheol out of his chair and persuades him to dance, although everyone knows it doesn’t take much effort for Seungcheol to succumb to his every whim. 

Wonwoo empties his glass, knowing he’d be intoxicated by alcohol first than with love. But then fate works her magic, and stumbles into Wonwoo quite literally. A spray of champagne, a blur of tan skin, and warm hands are already on his chest. A flute glass shattering into a million tiny fragments on the grass, twinkling like stars in the galaxy of the garden.

“I’m such a mess! I’m sorry, I think some drunk uncle pushed me and- your vest! That must be expensive!” 

_ It is expensive _ , Wonwoo thinks but it becomes an afterthought at the sight of the girl before him. She was a mess of nerves and laughter peels off him as he is reminded of Seokmin. Her eyes glow like the string of lights that hang across the canopy, and Wonwoo softens.

He brushes her hands away from his chest and laces it with his, earning a gasp in return. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the reckless abandon one gets from losing someone they love, but a smirk etches his way to his lips and asks her to dance with him.

You don’t always end up with your soulmate, but Wonwoo believes that he can still be one of the lucky ones.

**Author's Note:**

> hi its nonu writes again~ this is quite a long one and truth be told, i was quite scared to publish it. but to anyone who even just read it, thank you so much 💓 please leave kudos if you liked it, and if not please be kind :c 
> 
> until the next one


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